


It Wasn't Cheating

by Charity_Angel



Series: Cheating [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ianto tries to justify his seduction of Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Wasn't Cheating

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime before 'Cyberwoman'. I'm not committing to a time frame any more than that, because I'm buggered if I know when they started sleeping together. There's suggestions of it as early as 'Everything Changes', in retrospect.
> 
> Who the hell knows where the idea came from? If someone finds out, tell me? I could do with finding the inspiration and funnelling it into my WIPs, not completely random, unplanned smut-fics.
> 
>  
> 
> Beta-read (*le gasp*) by a wonderful friend who shall remain anonymous due to his distinct lack of an LJ/FF/AO3 account.

It wasn’t cheating, Ianto told himself. Not if you were doing it to distract your sexually deviant boss from the fact you were hiding your partially converted girlfriend in the basement. It wasn’t cheating: it was saving her life.

That was what he kept telling himself, anyway, as he had his back to the wall in Jack’s office and Jack’s lips attached to his neck. It didn’t even make him gay, because he didn’t look at men _that_ way. Only Jack, and that was only because he had to in order to seduce him. He was doing this all for Lisa; it was her he thought of at the end of the day, in the shower, alone after teasing Jack once again.

Only, Jack’s pheromones were making his head spin, and it had been _months_ since Canary Wharf. Months of only his right hand for company, and cock-teasing Jack would only go so far. He needed to give up the goods. Ianto, being Ianto, had researched online about what to expect. There was a tube of lube and condoms in his pocket. He knew he was clean, thank you very much, but Jack was a slut, and God only knew what he might have picked up as he slept his way through Cardiff (both human and alien populations, if the rumours from Torchwood One were to be believed).

Jack’s wandering, clever hands found his goodies, withdrew a condom with a smirk.

“Planning something, Mr Jones?”

Ianto found that his mouth was dry, he couldn’t answer. He’d had a brilliant line prepared too, and his mind was completely and utterly blank.

Jack regarded him almost thoughtfully. “Got to say, this isn’t much of a seduction. Not that I object to the methods you were using earlier, but…”

Ianto found himself agreeing. He gave up trying to say something witty, grabbed Jack’s shirt and pulled the older man towards him, their lips meeting. They battled for dominance, but inevitably, Ianto conceded. By the time they parted, they were both breathless.

Jack held the condom up. “I don’t have anything, you know.”

Ianto looked sceptical.

“Do you really think Owen would keep something like that to himself?”

It was a good point, Ianto realised. Despite the supposed doctor/patient confidentiality, something about an embarrassing affliction _always_ managed to get out. Particularly if it was sexual. Ianto’s eyes had been opened in the few months since his move back to Cardiff.

“I mean, we can if you want…”

Ianto plucked the condom from Jack’s grasp, tossed it to one side, and palmed Jack through his trousers.

Jack swallowed, his eyes darkening. “I like the way you think.”

 

.oOo.

Ianto wasn’t quite sure how they got down the ladder, or the exact sequence of events that led to him lying absolutely naked on Jack’s bed, with Jack’s lips around his cock. It didn’t matter that Ianto was as heterosexual as they came; Jack Harkness gave the most spectacular blow jobs he had ever had the fortune to be on the receiving end of. The things that man could do with his tongue should be illegal.

Suddenly, there was pressure at his back passage, a lubricated finger stroking him gently, never quite hard enough to actually penetrate, but enough for Ianto to know it was there. He had no doubt about the eventual intent of the finger. At first it was intrusive, but then Ianto found himself curious, wanted to experience for himself the sensations his research had told him about. He groaned lustfully as the finger inevitably found its way past the ring of muscle, penetrating him, lazily testing him, thrusting slowly in and out in time with Jack’s mouth.

“More.”

Jack released him with a soft pop. “Impatient.”

Ianto summoned his faculties. “I prefer to think of it as ‘keen’.” He pressed back onto Jack’s finger.

Jack smiled. It wasn’t Jack’s usual, seductive smile, but more genuine. “There’s no rush; we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You stopped,” Ianto whined. “Why?”

The finger was removed, and Ianto whimpered.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

Ianto thought briefly about lying, but Jack would probably realise the truth sooner rather than later. “Yes.”

Jack got up, kneeling, took Ianto’s head in his hands and kissed him tenderly.

“That’s why,” he said quietly as they parted, foreheads still touching. “You can’t rush these things. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I can’t wait to see you with my cock in you, know you’re making all those delicious sounds just for me.”

A wicked glint shone in Jack’s eyes as he returned to his former position.

“On your front, Jones,” he commanded.

Ianto turned somewhat gingerly. Jack parted his cheeks and pressed his lips to Ianto’s hole. Ianto swore vehemently as he felt himself breeched by Jack’s tongue.

 

.oOo.

Ianto bit his lip as Jack entered him, to keep from crying out.

“Breathe,” the older man advised sagely, rubbing the suddenly tense muscles in his back. “You need to breathe, and relax, or we stop this right now.”

Ianto was convinced he didn’t want that. Jack had made him see stars simply by using his fingers, and he wanted everything now. But, dear God, it hurt! Even three of Jack’s fingers had seemed easy compared to this.

Jack leaned over him and pressed a row of kisses to his spine. “Ianto, you need to relax, or I won’t be able to move either way.”

He was right. Ianto knew he was right, and he forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly, using Jack’s gentle, rhythmic stroking of his back in order to relax his body.

“Good, well done,” Jack commended him. He moved slowly, a single, shallow thrust that made Ianto groan, the intense burn subsiding to nothing but a pleasant, stretching sensation.

 

Somewhere deep down, Ianto knew that Jack was taking things slowly to minimise his own discomfort. But forefront in his mind was the fact that the shallow, languid thrusting was. Driving. Him. Fucking. Insane. He pushed back on the next ‘in’ stroke, taking more of Jack into himself and focussing on the lustful groan that Jack made rather than the strangled cry that came from his own throat.

“So eager,” Jack said affectionately from above him.

“More,” Ianto hissed, forcing himself back as much as he could. He could hear the catch in Jack’s breathing. Hell, he _felt_ it, a shudder that felt absolutely bloody marvellous in his arse. He kept going, feeling more and more of the delicious cock enter him, until his cheeks pressed against Jack’s hips, his balls against Jack’s.

“So good,” Ianto hissed. “So full.”

It seemed to take an age for Jack to start moving, slowly and gently at first then, realising that Ianto wasn’t going to break, picked up the pace.

“Fuck!”

Jack had changed the angle and hit that spot inside Ianto that made the stars appear, that radiated pleasure straight to both his brain and his cock. Again and again, Jack made sure that his thrusting touched just the right place. Absently, Ianto noticed that Jack’s right hand was no longer on his hip, and he briefly wondered why. When Jack’s strong fingers closed over his cock, he gasped. Oh, it was too much; Jack’s presence in and around him seemed to stimulate every single nerve Ianto possessed, and he cried out in wordless release, his body trembling as Jack continued to thrust, continued to pump him.

“Do you think you could come again?” Jack asked, his voice low, his own breathing shallow. Ianto could feel the rapid throb of his heartbeat, knew Jack must be holding on by a thread.

“Nngh.”

Jack chuckled, the vibrations stimulating Ianto’s prostate once more. His cock filled impossibly. Gods, he hadn’t been that hard so quickly since he was a teenager.

“Take that as a ‘yes’,” Jack said, sounding amused. “Ianto, do you think you could turn over? I want to see you when you come this time.”

Ianto whimpered as Jack withdrew, and he rallied his heavy limbs to comply as quickly as possible so that Jack would be inside him again, filling him, making him whole. He didn’t even mind that he managed to land right in the patch of his own come, just that Jack would carry on fucking him. Possibly forever.

 

.oOo.

It wasn’t cheating, Ianto told himself once again, as he slipped from Jack’s bed while the older man was sleeping. He was doing this _for_ Lisa, to keep her safe long enough for her to live. It wasn’t cheating, even if he had enjoyed it. Even if Jack had made him feel like the most precious thing in the universe and had come with Ianto’s name on his lips. It wasn’t cheating.


End file.
